Hunted
by Yougottatricksteronyourhands
Summary: Walking home from studying late one night Sam notices he is being followed. Getting the wrong number when he calls his brother for help might just be the best thing that's ever happened.


**A/N: Prompt taken from otpoftheday on tumblr. Prompt 187.**

His breaths were shallow, his footsteps quiet. He was ten steps behind and hid behind every street corner. He'd been following Sam for four blocks now and he was getting closer with each step. Sam would have been able to get away from him but it was nearing midnight and having been up studying all day, he was tired and lugging a heavy bag full of books and his computer he wasn't sure he could walk faster than he was, let alone run away or fight.

He took out his cell, cursing under his breath. No signal, and not enough battery to last calling his brother, let alone having a conversation with him. He tried to walk faster, but his long legs failed to push past the lethargy they held. He was starting to shake now. Despite the man's shallow breaths, Sam could hear them. He was gaining on him.

On the street corner, just in front of Sam, there was a phone booth. A rare sight these days, most having been taken down or abandoned with the invention of the cell phone. He weighed his options, he could go in the phone booth and call his brother, leaving the stalker to catch up with him; or he could take his chances and walk the next eight blocks home and hope that the man didn't catch up.

Sam took his chances and darted into the phone booth, breathing a sigh of relief he noted a lock on the inside of the door which he slammed shut. He could see the man gaining now, he never quickened his pace, kept to the shadows. He was waiting Sam out. With shaking hands Sam dialled Dean's number. Typing quickly, and his fingers tripping over themselves in an effort to reach the numbers on the key bad. He brought the ringing phone up to his ears.

"Dean, Dean? Thank God, some guy's following me. I'm alone and he's freaking me the hell out can you come pick me -"

A voice that was not Dean's answered and for one scary, blindingly miserable second Sam thought his stalker had hacked the phone.

"Woah. Slow down, kiddo. I'm not Dean. You've got the wrong number. Are you okay?"

The voice on the other end sounded kind and Sam didn't care that it wasn't his brother. He needed help and if the man on the other end of the phone was willing to give it he'd take it with both hands.

"Please help me. Some guy is following me. I've locked myself in a phone booth on 28th, but he's watching me. You've got to help me." Sam was breathing heavily now, the man was in his eye line. Tall; although not as tall as Sam. His face was half covered by shadow, but Sam could see he was grinning. It was a sinister look, not one filled with joy but one with sadistic pleasure. Sam felt like a rodent in a game of cat and mouse. He was being chased, and the knife in the man's hands were the teeth that would tear the mouse to shreds.

"Oh my God, he's got a knife. Please." Sam begged. He'd never begged in his life, but that grin, the way the man played with the knife like it was merely a toy. It scared him, chills shuddered down his back.

"Hey, kid. Calm down." Sam for once did not object to being called 'kid'. "I'm gonna hang up -" Sam's breath caught in his throat. "-and come get you. You're on 28th yeah?"

"Yeah." Sam confirmed. "What's your name?" he remembered to ask.

"They call me Gabriel." The man said before he hung up.

Waiting felt like it took an age. He couldn't break eye contact with the man leaning against the wall, twisting the knife around in his hands. He was still smiling. He mouthed something to him. It looked like his name. How did he know his name?

A car pulled up beside the phone book and a man got out, a gun was strapped to his side. Sam could only hope that this was not an affiliate of the man with the knife. The man noticed the other one leaning against the wall, and as he pulled out a radio the stalker stepped further into the shadows. This man was a cop. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, unlocking the door to the phone booth.

"-on 28th. Back up needed. Novak out." The man looked up from his radio, a hand rested on the gun in his jeans.

"You must be Sam." This must be Gabriel. Of all the luck in the world he'd phoned a cop rather than his brother.

"You're Gabriel." Gabriel nodded in agreement.

"I phoned a cop, thank God."

"You sure did, Samoose. Don't worry. He'll be long gone by now, and back up is on it's way. You're lucky you called me. I just got off a shift at the precinct. That was Alastair Heyerdahl. Sick bastard, been on our radar for weeks. He plays a game, and tortures those he catches. Calls himself 'Picasso with a Razor."

Sam felt himself go weak at the knees. He had been in deep shit, if Gabriel hadn't been the one he'd called he'd probably be being tortured, that or already dead. Gabriel caught him, struggling slightly with the weight of the larger man.

"Hey, hey. Sammy, it's okay. He's gone. You're safe. Give a testimony at the police station and we'll get him. I'll be there the whole time. I promise."

Sam nodded, and let himself be bundled into the front passenger seat of the car. Two cop cars pulled up beside Gabriel's own, Gabriel met them and gave them the details of Sam's ordeal. Sam continued to stare blankly inside the car until a bottle of water was pressed into his hand. It was Gabriel, his concerned but smiling face hovering above Sam's pale one.

"Are you okay? You're statement can wait until morning if you want to get some sleep. I'm sure that Dean you phoned will be worried about where you are."

Sam shook his head, taking slow sips of water and letting himself calm down. The news of who is stalker was had shocked him, turning his brain into overdrive, wondering if he'd ever be safe again.

"No, I'm okay. I'll phone my brother later. I want to do this now. While it's still fresh in my memory. The quicker I give a statement, quicker you catch the bastard, right?"

Gabriel nodded and drove off towards the precinct. A smile on the face when Sam said 'brother'. It was only now, as Sam calmed down from the night's events, did he realise just how beautiful his saviour was. Dark blonde hair slicked back, long enough that it tickled his neck and thick enough that Sam could imagine his hands running through the locks. His eyes were golden, a colour he did not realise was possible for eyes, crows feet beside them showed the years of laughter they held. He was short, way over half a foot shorter than Sam, and his smile made Sam relax. Made him want to see what his laughter was like, wanted to be the one to make Gabriel laugh.

He shook himself out of his thoughts of the police officer as they pulled up.

"Sorry I've brought you back to work when you've just got off."

Gabriel grinned at him. "Anything for you, Sasquatch." He brushed off the apology but Sam could tell he was tired. He knew Police Officers took long shifts and he knew Gabriel would have preferred to be sleeping rather than rescuing Sam.

Sam was called into a room to sit with two police officers as they took his statement. Gabriel waited outside, and Sam thought that that would be the man's cue to leave. Let Sam actually call his brother, and catch a few hours of sleep before his next shift. Yet half an hour after he'd gone into the room with the police officers, he came out, statement complete, to see Gabriel sat in the waiting room downing sickly sweet coffee like it was his lifeforce.

"You stayed!" He gained a laugh from the man, it was as gorgeous as he'd imagined, washing over Sam like honey.

"'Course I did. I told you, I'd be with you all the way."

Sam gathered the man up in a hug, muttering words of thanks to the man. He was greatful to his saviour, and just a little bit indulgent that it gave him the opportunity to hug the attractive stranger.

Gabriel laughed again, wrapping his arms around the man. "It's okay. What's a Tuesday night without saving damsel's in distress?

Sam chuckled against Gabriel's shoulder, before releasing him.

"So Sam, how about we get to know each other without me having to save you from psychopathic stalkers? A date, Fridaday night?"

Sam grinned at him, "Yeah, Gabe, I'd like that."


End file.
